In-Flight Entertainment
by blowmiakisscolin
Summary: Prompt: "My mom asked if I had anything to suck on during the flight. Apparently, 'I don't know, what does the pilot look like' isn't an acceptable answer." CS AU. Oneshot.


_Prompt: "My mom asked if I had anything to suck on during the flight. Apparently, 'I don't know, what does the pilot look like?' isn't an acceptable answer." CS AU. Oneshot._

* * *

 **In-Flight Entertainment**

* * *

It wasn't very often that Emma Swan took a vacation. In fact, the only flights she could remember ever taking had been work-related. As far as vacations went, she usually just opted for a drive down the coast to catch a little sun, before returning to Boston. It wasn't that she had anything keeping her in the city - just an unpredictable job and a boss who used the fact that Emma didn't have much of a social life to her advantage.

But for the first time in years, she had a whole week off work. A whole week which her bestfriend Mary Margaret had decided would be put to good use, and had booked the two of them 5 days away in Cancun. It wasn't Spring Break, so it wouldn't be overrun with college kids, and they could simply enjoy some sun, sea and plenty margaritas. Even Mary Margaret's husband, David, who had self-appointed himself the role of Emma's overprotective big brother, had thought it was a good idea for the two of them to take a break. So, being outnumbered, there'd really been no room for discussion on the matter.

The flights were cheap, but they had a brief layover in Miami. Mary Margaret was a somewhat-nervous flyer, and opted to be as far from the window as possible, so Emma had relented and taken the middle seat. On the Boston to Miami flight, she'd been relieved to find the two of them had the row to themselves, but she had no such luck on the connecting flight. As they'd boarded, she found they already had a row-mate, making himself comfortable in the window-seat, but she didn't take much notice of him as they stowed their bags overhead and took their seats.

"Do you have anything to suck on during the flight?"

Mary Margaret asked, fumbling in her purse for the hard candies she always had on-hand.

"I dunno, what does the pilot look like?"

Emma replied, her offhand joke causing Mary Margaret to hiss her name in embarrassment and the window-seated stranger to snort a surprised laugh and almost choke on his drink. Emma smirked and glanced at him as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His much-too-blue eyes were sparkling with amusement as they met hers, and she couldn't help but appreciate the stubble lining the most perfect jawline she'd ever seen in her life. She was pretty sure he could cut diamonds with that thing.

Still smirking, she passed the guy a tissue Mary Margaret had produced from her purse, and he flashed her a devastating smile, dabbing the water from his chin.

"Thanks for that," he grinned, a tinge of embarrassment coloring the tips of his ears an endearing pink, "I have to say, I saw the pilot boarding and I'm entirely sure he's old enough to be your father, love. So, I'd definitely opt for hard candies, if I were you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her and she chuckled, shaking her head and musing about how he just _had_ to have an accent to go along with his devastating good looks too. Because of course he did.

"Thanks for the tip."

She said, holding his gaze for a moment before turning her attention to the safety manual nestled into a pouch on the seat in front of her (mostly as a distraction from her new friend, if she was being honest). They settled in for take-off then and lapsed into a comfortable silence. Mary Margaret had taken some pills during their layover to quell her flying anxiety, and promptly dozed off within ten minutes of being in the air, meaning that when they hit a few pockets of turbulence, she was nonthewiser and slept through the entire thing.

Emma wasn't quite so fortunate, and though she wasn't a nervous flyer like her friend, she _really_ hated turbulence. Which was why she found herself instinctively grabbing hold of the nearest things to her when her stomach swooped and the plane rocked and rattled loudly...and that just so happened to be her armrest, and the handsome stranger's hand that was resting on it.

Too distracted by the somersaults her stomach was doing, it took her a moment to realize that she was now sat holding hands with her neighbor. He cleared his throat and turned his hand in hers so he could grasp her hand back, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb in a friendly, reassuring gesture.

"S'alright lass, just a bit of turbulence. It'll pass."

He smiled warmly at her when she lifted her eyes to meet his, and she tried to ignore the buzz under her skin where their hands were joined. Awkwardly, she slipped her hand from his with an embarrassed laugh and a mumbled apology.

"S'fine, you don't have to apologize. It's not everyday an attractive woman decides to spontaneously hold hands with me. I'm certainly not complaining."

He winked then, and she rolled her eyes, trying to bite back a grin at his good-natured teasing. She pointedly ignored the little thrill that zipped up her spine when he called her attractive. She wasn't someone who cared much about what other people thought of her, and she was quick to shoot down guys blatantly hitting on her if she wasn't out to pick one up. But this guy seemed different.

His casual compliment didn't feel forced or sleazy. He didn't make her cringe with it and he wasn't leering at her the way so many guys did. He'd managed to deliver a somewhat-cheesy compliment without it sounding like a bad pick-up line. And he was pretty damn easy on the eyes. Which is why she found herself looking at him coyly from under her lashes, offering her hand again.

"Emma. I figure I should probably at least give you my name now that we've held hands and all. Oh, and the one snoring beside me here is my friend, Mary Margaret."

She smiled, and his eyes did that sparkly thing again that she really thought should require a license of some sort, as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles while keeping his eyes locked with hers.

She could feel the blush rising on her cheeks at the unexpected contact of his lips against her skin, and she really hoped he didn't notice the rush of coldbumps rising on her arm as her body reacted to him of its own accord.

"Killian. It's a pleasure to meet you, Emma."

He let go of her hand and she immediately knotted them in her lap, breaking eye contact by looking past him out of the window. The air between them was already crackling with electricity and her pulse was racing. She was never usually so affected by a guy, but this one was a charmer for sure. She absently wondered how many women had fallen prey to those eyes and that accent before, and if he regularly used assigned seating situations to pick up said women.

"So, business or pleasure?"

Emma's eyes snapped back to his, her eyebrows shooting up, and he chuckled, reaching to scratch behind his ear before shaking his head.

"I mean, your trip to Mexico. Business or pleasure?"

"Oh," Emma breathed, feeling her face flush, "Uh, pleasure. I kinda got coerced into a vacation. My friends think I work too much and need a break."

"They sound like rather good friends to me. And a vacation is never a bad idea."

He gave her a lopsided smile and she found herself returning it. He had a great sense of humor and their conversation flowed easily. One topic flowed into the next, and they found themselves chatting and laughing for the majority of the two hour flight. They got to know each other quickly yet casually, and she was somewhat glad that Mary Margaret was out for the count, otherwise she knew her friend would be gleefully attempting to matchmake.

He told her that he actually lived in Boston, but had been working in Miami for a few months, just to help out a friend who owned a bar and had returned to Maine to help out her sick grandmother. Before returning to his life in Boston, where he worked as a Marine Engineer, he was going to visit his older brother, Liam, who was a captain in the Royal Navy and temporarily stationed at the Isla Mujeres Navy Base off the coast of Cancun. The way he talked about his brother, Emma could tell they were close, and that he admired the older man immensely.

She was cautious of revealing too much about herself to a complete stranger, but she couldn't help but relax and let down her guard somewhat as he made her laugh with his anecdotes from a childhood in England, and tales of teenage misadventures with his brother. She, in turn, told him of some of the less-harrowing memories from her childhood in the foster system, and how she'd come to work as a bail bondsperson in Boston, while considering trying to join the police. He was impressed and she couldn't help but feel a little thrill at the way he listened to her stories with rapt interest, clearly fascinated by her job. While she'd steadfastly avoiding talking about her stint in prison and the child she'd had to give up for adoption, she did talk about never knowing who her parents were, and growing up in more homes than she could remember.

He didn't look at her with pity, which she appreciated, and instead admitted that he'd lost both his parents young - his mother through illness and his father through abandonment - so he understood how lonely it could be. But he'd been lucky enough to have a brother to suffer through it all with, who had carefully kept them under the radar until they were old enough not to be scooped up by the system, and he'd followed his brother into the Navy as soon as he was old enough.

When the mood had darkened a little following a brief discussion of their less-than-ideal childhoods, Killian was quick to steer them onto lighter ground.

"So, have you much planned for your vacation time, then? Or just strict relaxation?"

Emma shrugged, taking a sip of the fruity, alcoholic concoction she'd ordered when the refreshments cart had been wheeled around.

"Just chilling out, I think. Mary Margaret is a teacher, so if you give her a vacation to plan, she'll roll out a minute-by-minute itinerary. That's not a vacation to me, so I banned any itineraries," she smiled and shook her head, casting a glance at her sleeping friends, "She stresses out so much when she's gotta wing it and just go with the flow. But she promised this would be a _relaxing_ vacation. We'll probably spend a lot of time at the beach and by the pool. Hopefully."

Killian chuckled, scratching behind his ear in what Emma had noticed was an endearing habit of his.

"Well, if you ladies fancied a day trip over to Isla Mujeres, I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind playing host and giving you a tour of the naval base. It's actually rather interesting. And the island itself is beautiful."

Emma hesitated. She didn't want to commit to anything while her friend wasn't involved in the conversation, and she was also wary of making plans to actively visit this guy she somehow felt like she'd known for years. She was the poster child for commitment phobia, and even committing to seeing the guy again, purposefully, was a little too close to the mark for Emma. Plus, she knew Mary Margaret would never shut up about it and would be planning a wedding by the end of the vacation.

He seemed to sense her hesitation and shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze dropping to his drink as he tried to play down his disappointment. He was attracted to her, and he wondered if he'd misread her coy smiles and casual flirting. Clearly, she wished for their contact to end with the flight, and he did his best to squash the heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. He'd been building up his courage to ask her for her number, but now he was relieved he hadn't, unsure if he would have been able to stand the awkward silence following a rejection when they were stuck sitting next to each other.

He knew he had no reason to feel so disheartened. He'd only just met the woman, and here he was hoping she'd want to see him again. The sound of her laugh had made butterflies take flight in his stomach, and he'd been mesmerized by the way her nose crinkled and the dimples in her cheeks deepened each time he'd elicited that reaction from her during their conversations. Liam would have rolled his eyes and told him he got himself attached far too quickly and easily.

"S'alright, love, you needn't look so stricken. It was just a suggestion," he forced a smile and was thankful his voice sounded lighter than he felt, "Either way, the island is beautiful, and there are plenty ferry tours from the mainland you could sign up for if you wished to see it by yourselves."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. If they _happened_ to bump into him on a day trip, that would be different than planning to see him again...right?

It was at that point that the seatbelt sign switched on, and the pilot's voice came on the overhead speaker, informing everyone that they were preparing for their descent into Cancun. Killian turned his attention to the landscape that had finally appeared below, while Emma nudged Mary Margaret awake, finally rousing her from her sleep. The brunette seemed bewildered for a moment before she orientated herself and gave a start when she realized she'd slept through the entire flight.

Once the plane had safely landed and passengers were busy bustling around collecting their luggage from the overhead compartments, Emma finally turned back to Killian, sat waiting patiently in his seat.

"Uh, well...it was nice talking to you. Hope you have a nice time with your brother."

He smiled brightly back at her, silently tucking away into his memory the high set of her cheekbones and the dimple in her chin, along with the pretty smattering of freckles across her nose and the distinct flecks of gold in her jade green eyes.

"Aye, and I hope you have a very restful time at the beach, lass. It's been a pleasure, and you've certainly made this flight much less boring than I anticipated it would be."

She grinned and ducked her head, hoisting her carry-on bag higher on her shoulder and pointedly ignoring the way Mary Margaret was watching and listening with piqued interest.

"Well...bye, Killian."

The walkway began to clear as passengers disembarked, and she followed Mary Margaret toward the exit. Throwing one last glance over her shoulder, she found his intense gaze following her, and was thankful that the distance between them now prevented him from seeing the rush of heat that lit up her cheeks.

Mary Margaret managed to hold in the barrage of questions until they were finally in their cab on the way to their hotel. Emma knew her friend had been dying to quiz her ever since they'd stepped off the flight, so she was anticipating the narrowed eyes and overly-casual "So..." that would signal the beginning of her interrogation.

"So...that guy we were sat with was pretty hunky…"

"Mmm? Oh. Yeah, he was alright."

Emma shrugged noncommittally, ignoring Mary Margaret rolling her eyes with an exasperated sigh.

"You two seemed pretty friendly…"

She continued, pushing for information that Emma was clearly not willing to give up easily.

"Not really. We just talked a bit while you were sleeping."

"Define 'a bit'? Like, the whole flight? Because he was totally into you. He looked like he wanted to devour you right there and then."

Emma scoffed and shook her head, muttering that she was imagining things and turning to look out of the window to avoid letting Mary Margaret see the blush she knew was rising on her cheeks. The perils of being fair-skinned.

"You're blushing!" Her friend exclaimed, much too gleefully, "You knew he was into you. Did you get his number? Oh, _please_ tell me you got his number."

Another scoff from Emma as she scowled at her friend. Her hopeless love of matchmaking was as endearing as it was irritating, but at that moment, she just wanted to forget about the handsome stranger she'd befriended a little too easily.

"Of course I didn't. I don't go picking guys up on flights. Can we drop it now, please? I wanna enjoy this vacation, and one of the conditions I came was that there'd be _no_ matchmaking, remember? So knock it off."

The edge to Emma's tone silenced Mary Margaret and she finally acquiesced, sensing that if she pushed anymore, there'd be a sour mood hanging over them for the rest of the vacation. And that would have defeated the whole purpose of their trip.

"Alright. Sorry. I won't mention him again. So...shall we head to the pool once we get to the hotel, or explore the town?"

* * *

 _CS_

* * *

For the next few days, Emma did her best to forget about the piercing-eyed, dashing Marine Engineer. But try as she might, he'd pop into her mind at the most inopportune moments. She'd done double-takes more times than she cared to admit, mistaking a number of tall, dark-haired guys for her airplane rowmate. She was sure Mary Margaret had noticed, and was grateful her friend had chosen not to say anything, simply averting her gaze with a knowing curl of her lips and a shake of her head.

By the third day of their five day vacation, Emma was outright irritated with herself. She didn't get this hung-up on guys she didn't even know. She didn't get hung up on guys, _period_. She'd sworn off dating since the last jerk had cheated on her for months, and seemed unfazed when she'd walked in on him banging some redhead in their bed. And that wasn't to mention the asshole who'd knocked her up at 16 and then vanished into thin air, never to be heard from again.

She hadn't had the best track record with her choice in lovers, so she'd opted to stick with one-nighters, and thus far it had suited her just fine. No strings meant no fear of getting hurt. And the guys she'd gone home with had scratched the itch reasonably enough when she'd needed it. She often didn't bother with names, making sure they knew it was a one-time thing, and none of them had ever played on her mind afterwards. Even the particular handsome ones.

So, why was this one different? She hadn't even kissed him, nevermind fucked him, yet he was lingering at the back of her mind after only spending two hours in his presence. It was driving her nuts, and she was _supposed_ to be relaxing, unwinding and _destressing_. Not frustrating herself with unwarranted wonderings about a guy she was never going to see again.

When she found herself casually suggesting a day trip over to Isla Mujeres, because she'd 'heard there were some great beaches and the shopping was cheaper', Mary Margaret had eyed her, looking as though she was on the verge of questioning her overly-nonchalant tone. But, instead, she'd simply agreed to the suggestion, and they'd ventured off in search of the ferry.

The journey over to the pretty island of Isla Mujeres only took fifteen minutes, and Mary Margaret had spent the time researching all the things they could do, making a mini list and assuring Emma it _wasn't_ an itinerary. She was enthusiastically explaining all about Hacienda Mundaca ('It was built by pirates, and you've always loved pirates so we should definitely go there!'), and a turtle farm at a nearby aquarium. Emma smiled at her friend's childlike enthusiasm, and for most of the day the two made their way through Mary Margaret's list.

They spent some time enjoying the most beautiful beach Emma had ever seen in her life, too. It looked like it was straight out of a glossy magazine, with soft white sand that felt like powder beneath her feet, and water so perfect and blue that it reminded her of a certain someone's ridiculously captivating eyes.

They stopped for lunch at Oscar's Grill, which looked out over the Marina. There were dozens of docked ships, and Emma noticed a sign promoting tours of naval vessels.. Pointing out the sign over lunch, Emma suggested they add that to Mary Margaret's list. Her friend hummed in agreement, producing an information leaflet she'd collected at an information point earlier that day. She found the tours promoted on the signage, and they decided to wander down the docks after lunch to check it out.

"Can I ask you something? And don't snap at me?"

Mary Margaret said gently as they settled their check and headed in the direction the sign pointed. Emma cast a sidelong glance at her friend and shrugged, which Mary Margaret took as an affirmative.

"Was the hot airplane guy coming here? Was he in the Navy or something?"

"What are you talking about?"

Emma shot back, flustered and trying to conceal the fact, scanning the ships around them for one that looked like it belonged to the Navy.

"Well...you've never shown an interest in ships or anything before - your love of piratey things notwithstanding - and now suddenly you're wanting to go tour navy ships and such. Are you hoping to bump into him?"

The woman was too perceptive for her own good, and Emma was in two minds about whether to admit having somewhat of an ulterior motive with their day trip, or to feign confusion and shut her down.

"I'm not-...I didn't-...well, fine, I wouldn't be _completely_ opposed to bumping into him, but-"

"I knew it!" Mary Margaret was beaming, practically fist-pumping at her admission, "I _knew_ you were into him. And you've been distracted this whole vacation so far. I've never seen you so distracted by a guy."

Emma grimaced, glad of her oversized sunglasses.

"Well, it really doesn't matter, 'cause I'm never gonna see him again. And it's probably for the best anyway. I don't exactly have the best history with men I've chosen before. I'm perfectly fine as I am, no strings and all that."

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes, sighing as she slipped her arm through Emma's while they strolled down the dock.

"I know you're 'perfectly fine', but that doesn't necessarily equate to happiness, Emma. Walsh was a total douchebag, pardon my French. But they're not all like that. And I know it's easy for me to say when I married my childhood sweetheart. But honestly, there really are some great guys out there. You just have to take a leap of faith once in awhile. Did you get that guy's number?"

"Killian. His name's Killian. And no, I didn't. I think he was gonna offer it til I got spooked when he suggested we could come over here and meet up with him. He backed off, so I figure I had the deer in headlights look. I don't exactly have a good poker face."

Mary Margaret smiled ruefully and shook her head.

"Well, que sera. Maybe he'll be aboard one of these ships giving tours and fate will put you in each others' paths again."

Emma rolled her eyes, elbowing Mary Margaret lightly in the ribs and scoffing as her friend laughed.

"Shut up. Why do you always go and bring fate into it? You know I don't believe in all that shit."

* * *

 _CS_

* * *

"Ma'am, can I help you?"

A distinctly British accent had Emma spinning around, heart skipping more than a few beats. But as she met the steely grey gaze of a tall, curly-haired man dressed in Naval uniform with a nametag announcing "Captain L Jones", and not the piercing blue of the man she'd been hoping to find, she felt disappointment wash over her.

"Oh, uh...hi. We were looking for the tour thing. There's a sign up there," she gestured back toward the promenade and the man smiled politely, "and we couldn't see anyone around to ask. This looks like the ship on the brochure..."

"Ah, they look similar, yes. But I'm afraid you have the wrong vessel, lass," he canted his head to the ship docked opposite, "That's the one you're looking for."

"Oh. Right. Sorry."

After a few apologies, and Captain Jones assuring them it was quite alright, no harm done, they ventured over to the correct ship. The tour was, in fact, interesting, and Emma found herself engrossed in the detailed descriptions the charismatic tour guide gave at each stop-point around the ship. It was a retired vessel once used by the _Armada de México_ , and the woman leading the tour was an active _Teniente de Navío_ who simply enjoyed educating interested members of the public about her work and the work of her fellow naval officers.

Following the tour, Emma had noticed the time and found herself wishing they had the time to stay longer. It really _was_ a beautiful place, as Killian had promised, and despite feeling a little disappointed by the fact that she hadn't managed to _accidentally_ bump into him during their day of exploring, she'd still very much enjoyed the island itself.

"So, what's your 'fate radar' saying now then?"

Emma joked as they boarded the ferry. Mary Margaret shot her a look that was somewhere between unimpressed and apologetic, and shrugged.

"Things do happen for a reason, Emma. I know you don't place much stock in it, but people are put in our paths to bring something to our lives. Perhaps he was just meant to bring some in-flight entertainment to yours. Either way, you did meet him for a reason. Whatever that reason may be."

She really wished she could share Mary Margaret's conviction and optimism when it came to matters of the heart and such, but she'd been burned too badly, too many times. Her walls were up for a reason, and they'd done a pretty decent job of protecting her so far, stopping her from getting too attached or invested in anyone. She didn't know how Killian had somehow slipped through the cracks, but she was assuring herself over and over that she'd forget him eventually, while pointedly ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that didn't seem to agree with her on that one.

* * *

 _CS_

* * *

The day after their island trip, they were headed home, the five day vacation having passed quickly. Emma had to admit that she did feel a lot more relaxed and rested than she had a week earlier, and Mary Margaret had grinned at that, clinking their cocktail glasses together as they sat in the Departures lounge waiting to board their flight back to Boston.

Blessedly, it was a direct flight on the way back. And the weather was apparently good back in Boston too, so she'd opted to risk it and wear her denim shorts and a loose-fitting white tank top, showing off her tanned legs because she didn't often have the opportunity.

When they finally boarded, Emma scanned the seat numbers for their row, narrowly avoiding a concussion when a burly guy with an oversized bag struggled to hoist it into the overhead as she was passing him.

"Y'know, I think I'll challenge myself and go for the middle seat this time. I'll be falling asleep anyway."

Mary Margaret offered, and Emma glanced back at her with a chuckle.

"Wow, those cocktails really have given you some liquid courage, huh?"

She teased, earning a thwack to her shoulder from Mary Margaret's boarding pass. She finally located their seats, and moved to let her friend take the middle. A teenage girl was already seated by the window, and Emma tried to ignore the flare of disappointment that settled in her chest.

Once she'd stowed their bags, she settled down into her seat with a heavy sigh.

"That was a heavy sigh, love. Vacations are supposed to destress you."

Emma's head snapped around, her pulse jumping as the familiar voice came from behind her. And there he was, sat across the aisle, two rows behind, grinning at her widely. She knew she was beaming back at him, and she wasn't even trying to play it down, because he seemed equally as happy to see her, raising an eyebrow and scratching his ear. She hadn't realized she could miss someone after only knowing them for two hours, but she certainly had missed him.

"Killian! What are you-...you're…"

Mary Margaret's head popped around the seat then, her eyes widening as she recognized their old row buddy.

"Well, now isn't _this_ a coincidence," she grinned, subtly elbowing Emma before stretching around her to offer Killian her hand, "We weren't properly introduced last time. Mary Margaret."

"Hello, lass. Yes, you were out like a light the last time I saw you," he reached forward and shook her hand gently, "Killian Jones, pleasure to meet you properly."

Mary Margaret narrowed her eyes. She recognized the name, but she couldn't put her finger on why. Shaking it off, she smiled brightly and slipped back down into her seat, noticing how her friend's gaze was still locked on Killian, her cheeks pink in a way that had nothing to do with sunburn.

"Just so you know, that 'fate radar' of mine? Totally exploding right now."

She whispered, so only Emma could hear, and she heard her scoff, despite the smile on her face.

"Hold on a second, lass," Killian said, still grinning as he stood up and stepped forward, addressing the man sat across the aisle from Emma, "Hiya mate, just wondering if you could do me a rather large favor. See, I would love to spend the duration of this flight in the company of my beautiful friend here, without irritating our fellow passengers by speaking across them. Do you think you might be willing to switch seats with me to ensure a pleasant flight for us all?"

Emma held back a laugh and offered the suited stranger a winning smile, giddy at the idea of spending four uninterrupted hours of their direct flight sitting beside Killian again. The businessman hesitated, eyeing Killian warily, before sighing, gathering his belongings and standing up. Killian winked at Emma as he thanked the man profusely, grabbing his jacket and settling into his new seat, right across the aisle from her.

"I bet that accent gets you anything you want."

Emma joked, rolling her eyes while still unable to take the smile from her face. He smirked, running his tongue across his bottom lip in a way that had heat pooling low in her belly.

"Occasionally. And I'll bet that smile of yours gets you anything you want."

Emma felt Mary Margaret's elbow digging into her side again and she winced, turning to her friend with exasperation.

"Can you _stop_ doing that? I'm gonna have so many bruises by the time we get home."

She hissed, and Mary Margaret leaned over to whisper in her ear.

"He is _so_ into you, Emma. Go for it, okay? Don't let your walls get in the way this time. Take a leap of faith, remember?"

Emma rolled her eyes, her pulse fluttering with a mixture of fear and anticipation. She knew her friend was right, as always. And as they prepared for take-off, she glanced over at Killian, who immediately turned to meet her gaze with a smile. She'd made up her mind.

* * *

 _CS_

* * *

"Does she have in-flight narcolepsy or something?"

Killian chuckled, nodding at Mary Margaret, who had once again passed out not too long after they were in the air. They were now almost halfway through the flight and she was still out for the count.

"Nah, she's a nervous flyer, so instead of pissing everyone off by jittering the entire flight, she has some pills the doctor gave her. Knocks her the fuck out within like fifteen minutes. She's a lightweight."

Emma shrugged and Killian laughed, shaking his head. She had a way with words that he found entirely too endearing. He only wished she hadn't made it quite so clear the last time he'd tested the waters, that she had no interest in getting to know him outside of a metal vacuum. But he couldn't get out of his head the way her whole face had lit up with a beaming smile that set his blood on fire when she'd seen him again. And the fact that her mile-long legs were bare and torturing him too, was not helping.

"So, how was your vacation?"

He asked, genuinely interested to hear about her week, but also trying to distract his mind from overthinking every little detail of their interactions. He hadn't mentioned her to his brother, but Liam had known something was distracting him, and had called him out on it numerous times. He'd correctly guessed it was a woman, but Killian had remained tight-lipped, knowing the older man would simply chastize him for wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"Well, my tan lines say it was well worth it," she joked, "But yeah, we had a good time. We went over to that island too...and you were right, the beaches were _gorgeous_."

Killian's heart skipped. She'd been on the island. She'd taken his advice. And despite his rational mind reminding him that she'd had no way to contact him even if she had wanted to take him up on the tour offer, he still felt his stomach sink a little. Had she wanted to visit the island and been glad to avoid purposefully meeting up with him? Or had she hoped that perhaps they might bump into one another? He didn't know if he really wanted to know the answer, with hours left of their flight and the enforced closeness between them.

"I told you. Best beaches in Mexico. There was a survey, I suppose. I should've given you a list of the best places to eat too. So other than beach-hopping, did you get to see much of the island?"

"Mhmm. Mary Margaret let her inner-teacher loose and planned it all for us. Beaches, an aquarium, some ruins, and then we did a tour thing of one of the naval ships. It was actually really interesting."

"Aye?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised she'd been interested enough to go on one of the ship tours, "My brother's ship is docked in the Marina where they do those tours. The Mexican Navy ship they use is very similar to his though, so he's had to redirect a few tourists. Some were wandering around his ship this time, apparently."

He chuckled, and Emma's eyes widened as she felt her cheeks flush. Because _of course_ they'd wandered onto Killian's brother's ship. _Captain L Jones_. It made sense now.

"Yeah...uh...that would be us. I guess it was your brother's ship we wandered onto. Captain L Jones?" Killian was staring at her in disbelief, and nodded, "But in our defense, there was zero sign-posting and his ship _does_ look exactly like the one in the tour guidebook…"

Killian laughed then, shaking his head, still in shock that his brother had met the woman who'd been playing on his mind all week, and hadn't even known it.

"That's a coincidence and a half. Shame I was below deck at that point."

Emma gave a start and it was her turn to stare in disbelief then. She'd been trying to subtly catch a glance of him all day, hoping to run into him _entirely by accident_ , and she'd probably missed him by minutes. She whistled low and shook her head.

"Damn, I guess I we just missed each other. Your brother was very nice, considering we were just roaming around his ship and technically trespassing. I didn't know your last name then, so I didn't put the pieces together. You two do kinda look alike, though."

Killian grinned, puffing his chest up a little in a mock show of confidence.

"Aye, but I'm the better lookin' one, right, love?"

"Obviously," Emma laughed, a sparkle in her eyes, "But then, he does have that whole man-in-uniform thing working for him."

Killian looked affronted for a moment and she laughed harder.

"Pff. I assure you, I was much more handsome in my uniform back in the day."

Emma's eyes had widened again before she could rein in her response, the idea of Killian in a naval uniform doing terrible things to her pulse, which was stuttering madly as her imagination went wild. Killian seemed to notice and was watching her reaction with interested curiosity.

"Penny for your thoughts, love?"

He smirked, keeping an intense gaze on her as she flushed from head to toe. She cleared her throat and rolled her eyes, reaching for the bottle of water she had in her purse, in an effort to busy her hands and avoid meeting his eyes while she composed herself. Damn, one little mental image and she was a mess, unused to feeling so off-kilter because of a guy.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, love. Just making a dash to the little boy's room."

It was on the tip of her tongue to shoot back that she could bet there was nothing _little_ about him, but instead she kept her mouth clamped shut and nodded, somewhat glad of the moment alone to gather herself.

Glancing back, she saw him waiting his turn behind a woman who was very blatantly eyeing him up. She said something to him with a flirty smile, and he shrugged, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. And even though he clearly wasn't flirting back with the woman, Emma still felt her entire body tense up, eyes narrowed as she watched the woman disappearing into the bathroom and finally leaving him alone.

An idea flitted into her head, and it set her pulse racing again. It was a ballsy move, if she went through with it. But there was no one waiting for the bathroom after Killian, and the rows around the bathrooms were all either asleep or engrossed in movies on the screens in front of them. Squashing down a wave of nervousness, and wiping her suddenly-sweaty palms on her shorts, she waited until the woman before him vacated the bathroom, and stood up as he disappeared inside.

Keeping her gaze fixed on the bathroom door, she focused her mind on what she was about to do. She'd never done _anything_ as bold as this before, even though she certainly didn't consider herself a prude, and she knew it could either go very well, or very, very wrong. If it was the latter, then she couldn't discount putting the parachute packs under her chair to good use.

Reaching the bathroom, she took a quick steadying breath and, before she could overthink things and talk herself out of it, she tapped on the door. For a moment there was no response, so she tapped slightly louder, and heard his muffled voice with a slight edge of irritation to it.

"I'll be out in a minute."

She tapped again, insistent, and heard him cursing on the other side of the door. A few moments later, the lock turned and he slid the door open slightly. When he saw her, his eyebrows shot up, and she slipped inside with him, securing the door quickly before turning back to face him.

He was staring at her in surprise, and the sudden proximity to him had the air backing up in her lungs. He'd clearly been splashing his face with water, as little droplets still clung to his scruff. The gentle hint of aftershave he wore was more pronounced this close too, and she had the urge to mumble something stupid about how good he smelled. But instead she simply looked up at him, cheeks pink and pupils blown wide just as his were.

"Well...this is-"

Before he had a chance to finish his sentence, she was grabbing two fistfulls of his t-shirt and dragging his lips down to meet hers. He froze for a second, but as Emma slipped her arms around his neck, pressing her lithe body flush against his, his heartbeat roared in his ears and he reacted on instinct. Wrapping his arms around her, plundering her mouth and thrilling in the whimper she made in response, he couldn't quite believe this was all happening.

After a moment of making out as though the world was about to end, Emma broke the kiss, eyes closed and forehead pressed to Killian's as she tried to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding and her entire body tingled with the adrenaline, knowing they had limited time before their little tryst would be exposed by a line of people waiting outside the door.

"God, I've wanted to do that for a week."

She whispered breathlessly, hands shaking as she slid them over his shoulders and across his chest.

"Emma...bloody hell."

He whispered, clearly wrecked by one kiss alone. She hadn't really thought through exactly what she was going to do once she'd kissed him senseless, but the bolstering knowledge that she could bring him to his knees with a kiss had her smirking. Dropping to her knees, she heard him curse as he realized her intentions.

"Bloody fuck, what are you-"

"Is this okay?"

She cut him off with a whispered question, needing to know she wasn't bombarding him with something he didn't want, while tugging at his belt impatiently. He swallowed hard and nodded, seemingly unable to properly form words, and instead helping her to unfasten his pants and shuck them down enough to enable Emma to get to her prize.

"Fuck…someone's more than a little ready."

She breathed, eyes widening as she yanked his tight boxers down too, his erection springing free and taking her breath away. It was bigger than she was used to, and she never would have thought she'd find herself describing a cock as beautiful, but his _really_ was. Solid steel encased in velvet, and she couldn't wait to taste.

Before he had chance to say another word, she was licking a stripe up the underside, and looking up to make eye contact with him as he made a guttural groan that really shouldn't have sounded so goddamn sexy.

"I've had-...fuck yes...a permanent semi all-...jesus…fucking week because of you."

A thrill shot up her spine at his gasped words, and she took him fully into her mouth, as deeply as she could, letting him hit the back of her throat and wrapping her small hand around the rest of it that she couldn't reach, to twist and pump in a fast, steady rhythm. She was good at giving head, and weirdly enough she actually enjoyed the act. She felt powerful, knowing she could reduce a guy to harsh pants and desperation with a clever flick of her tongue and hollowing of her cheeks.

He held eye contact with her, gripping the side of the basin in the tiny bathroom for purchase, as she gagged around his generous length. He cursed over and over in a barely-controlled whisper, knowing he wasn't going to last long.

"Darling...fuck...I'm close-"

She doubled down on her efforts, bringing her free hand up to fondle his balls, and he shuddered, chest heaving, her name falling like a prayer from his lips. He had certainly never in a million years anticipated this happening when he'd caught sight of her boarding the plane a few hours earlier. His heart had leapt and he'd been glad that she hadn't spotted him first, giving him time to compose himself. But if he'd suspected for a second that she returned his interest to the point that she was currently blowing him in the airplane's tiny bathroom, he would have felt much more confident in offering her his number.

Thanking every deity he could think of for the chance second meeting with the goddess currently on her knees before him, he carded his hand through her long, blonde tresses and felt himself ready to fall over the edge. Warning her again, she simply looked up at him with a smile glittering in her green eyes, and took him deep.

He stuffed his fist into his mouth to prevent himself from yelling her name as he shot his release to the back of her throat, and watched, enthralled, as she swallowed him down. In that moment, it was all he could do not to propose to her on the spot, the orgasm was _that_ good, and he was _that_ wrecked watching her sit back and lick her lips to capture an errant drop that had escaped. He stared in awe at her, drifting back down from his high, and offered his hand to help her up.

She smiled shyly and fixed her hair. A charged silence sat between them as he quickly tucked himself back into his pants and fastened his belt. Before she could overthink what had just transpired, she tossed him a grin and slipped out of the bathroom, leaving him to compose himself alone for a moment. She was relieved to find no line had formed and that the only one to cast her a knowing glance was a young female flight attendant, who winked at her before continuing preparing the drinks cart. Emma knew she'd probably witnessed the same thing dozens of times, but she still blushed and ducked her head, hurrying back to her seat.

Mary Margaret was thankfully still snoozing, and she took a moment to replay what she'd just done. She wondered if he was gonna look at her differently now, and she how she could insinuate that she didn't want it to be a one-time thing...for the first time in almost a decade. She just hoped he wasn't going to feel weird with her now, and awkwardly try to let her down gently.

A few minutes later, that somehow felt like an eternity, Killian returned to his seat. His cheeks were still flushed, and she bit back a smirk. Knowing she'd had such an effect simply by using her mouth on him was more than a little invigorating.

Once seated, he turned to look at her, a dopey smile on his face, and the knot of anxiety that had started to form in her stomach immediately dissipated. He leaned toward her.

"I have no idea what to say right now, because no one has ever blown my mind like that...pun intended."

He said under his breath, careful that their conversation wasn't going to be overhead down the aisle. Emma bit her lip as he reached over and grabbed her hand, bringing her knuckles to his lips much the way he had done the first time they'd met.

"Thank you," he whispered, after pressing a kiss to the top of her hand, "I don't know if that's the right kinda thing to say after...that. But yeah...I uh...very much enjoyed it. You have a wicked mouth on you, lass."

Emma laughed, shaking her head at his gentlemanly response to being given a blowjob by a woman he barely knows in an airplane bathroom. But his response boosted her confidence a little. Grabbing her purse, she found one of the packs of tissues Mary Margaret had stowed away, and her eyeliner in lieu of pen. Scribbling down her number, before she could second-guess herself, she handed the tissue to him.

"Here...so you can return the favor."

She smirked, and his eyes snapped up to meet hers, pupils huge as he stared at her before he broke into a smirk of his own.

"Oh, you better believe I'll return the favor, love."

And return the favor he did. Multiple times, on many different occasions and in a hundred different ways. Never would Emma have thought that a vacation she'd been reluctant to go on would lead to a chance meeting on a plane that would change her life.

But Mary Margaret did so love to remind her of it, even years after the fact. She'd bring out the 'remember whens' everytime Emma and Killian were visiting for dinner, and it even formed part of her Maid of Honor speech at their wedding reception. But Emma didn't mind, though she never did tell her friend _all_ of the details of how exactly she and Killian had started...

* * *

 _Fin._


End file.
